


Not Right Now

by GEGabriels



Series: G.E.Gabriels' Les Mis Sickfics [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Combeferre & Enjolras Platonic Life Partners, Common Cold, Fever, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, Sorry Courf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26136913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GEGabriels/pseuds/GEGabriels
Summary: "Just wanted to talk to someone," Courfeyrac informed, Grantaire heaving out a sigh,"Go away, Courfeyrac. I don't want to deal with you tonight." He murmured, coughing into the crook of his arm. Courfeyrac's eyes widened, and Grantaire stood up before he could say anything in response.In which 90% of the Amis come down with a cold, everyone thinks Courfeyrac is exaggerating, Grantaire is accidentally rude, and Enjolras and Combeferre are pretty much inseparable.
Relationships: Combeferre & Courfeyrac & Enjolras (Les Misérables), Combeferre & Enjolras (Les Misérables), Courfeyrac/Jean Prouvaire, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Series: G.E.Gabriels' Les Mis Sickfics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896514
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Not Right Now

Every single winter, without fail, half of the Amis would end up ill at the same time. Courfeyrac supposed there had to be repercussions of having a large friend group, even if they were as amazing as the Les Amis (The biggest repercussion of being an Ami was that it greatly increased your risk of getting arrested). Really, it was partially their fault that it happened every year. No matter how much Joly drilled in his advice on how to avoid getting sick, Bahorel was not shy to physical contact at all, Enjolras almost never washed his hands, and Courfeyrac wouldn't even get started on Eponine and Gavroche…

The only thing that changed every year was who got sick, and what illness it was. Courfeyrac had thankfully managed to avoid the stomach flu of last year. Very thankfully. This year, everything had started when Grantaire had come into the Musain with a sniffle, which eventually turned into a bad cold over the course of the day. To nobody's surprise, Enjolras had woken up coughing and sneezing a day later, Jehan and Bahorel quickly following suit, Joly soon after, much to his horror, and Combeferre had been taken down a few days later.

The cold was nothing bad this year, thankfully, mainly just leading to everyone being more short-tempered and tired than usual. Courfeyrac could deal with that. A whole lot better then last year…

Courfeyrac was currently in the back room of the Musain, talking quietly to Marius, who really only seemed interested in talking about Cosette, his girlfriend. Courfeyrac had heard enough about Cosette to last two life times, and simply rolled his eyes at Marius. At least Marius wasn't talking about his lonely soul anymore… Courfeyrac wasn't sure which was worse. He stood up, suddenly craving actual sane company. Now, Grantaire would not have been first on his list in that category, but Jehan had fallen asleep on a table, Eponine was nowhere to be seen, Enjolras never covered his mouth when he sneezed, so no way Courf was going near him until the cold passed, and Bahorel and Joly were not exactly the type of people you would classify as sane. Hence, Grantaire.

"Hello!" Courfeyrac greeted, sitting across from Grantaire, who was staring mournfully at an empty beer bottle. Grantaire looked up at him, frowning,

"What is it, Courfeyrac?" He asked sharply, an edge to his voice that Grantaire had never taken before. Courfeyrac, who, while good with people, was not good at knowing people's limits, continued,

"Just wanted to talk to someone," Courfeyrac informed, Grantaire heaving out a sigh,

"Go away, Courfeyrac. I don't want to deal with you tonight." He murmured, coughing into the crook of his arm. Courfeyrac's eyes widened, and Grantaire stood up before he could say anything in response.

"I'm going to head out," Grantaire announced, walking over to Enjolras, the two of them exchanging a passionate kiss, before Grantaire walked out the door. Courfeyrac frowned, watching his friend and best friend publicly display romance was still taking some getting used to.

" _Go away, Courfeyrac. I don't want to deal with you tonight."_

The words still rang in Courfeyrac's head. Did Grantaire just… Deal with him on a daily basis? Courfeyrac thought they were friends! Courfeyrac knew he could be… And experience, to put it in _Combeferrian_ words, but he didn't really think he'd ever been something "to deal with." Maybe he was just overthinking things?

" _I don't want to deal with you tonight."_

" _I don't want to deal with you tonight."_

Great. That totally wasn't going to haunt his sleep whatsoever. Courfeyrac stood up, walking over to Enjolras and Combeferre, who were leaning against each other whilst they worked, a very practiced, efficient team. Combeferre was dabbing at his nose lightly with a handkerchief, while Enjolras had a literal pile of tissues beside him, and was sniffling loudly as he scribbled down statistics with a red pencil.

"I'm going to go back home now, guys." Courfeyrac told them, Combeferre giving him a nod,

"Be safe," He said, stuffiness tracing the edges of his voice. Enjolras simply gave Courfeyrac a nod, sneezing into a tissue, which he had thankfully grabbed at just the right time.

Courfeyrac gave them a murmur of parting, before grabbing his jacket and hat, and leaving the Musain.

" _I don't want to deal with you tonight."_

…..…..…..

The next morning, Courfeyrac woke up with a cough, and he groaned, knowing what was to happen. Slowly, he eased himself out of bed, wincing at his sore muscles. His nose had begun to run, and he had a pounding headache. He was also quite dizzy. Well, that was great. He honestly shouldn't be surprised, what with the fact that he shared an apartment with Combeferre and Enjolras, both of whom had been sneezing and coughing for days. He stepped out of his room, and into the living room, hoping to find Combeferre, who was an early riser, and ask for Dayquil, or something. Instead, he found Combeferre and Enjolras passed out on the couch together, Enjolras almost melted into Combeferre's side, and Combeferre's arm slung protectively around the blonde. Courfeyrac smiled. Combeferre and Enjolras were pretty much platonic life partners. Grantaire should thank his lucky stars that Combeferre wasn't romantically interested in Enjolras.

He bypassed asking Combeferre, and instead headed into the kitchen, pouring himself a bowl of cereal with milk, which he then proceeded to eat. He had work rather early that morning, and headed off, not bothering to wake Combeferre and Enjolras up. If they were asleep, they probably needed it. Everything seemed like a fine morning. Until it wasn't.

It became apparent by the end of work that Courfeyrac did not just have a mild cold. He was coughing so hard he could barely breathe, as he finally was able to drive back home. His stomach had also begun to ache. That was normal? Right? Could just be a bad cold… Courfeyrac didn't think that bad colds were supposed to give you stomach aches, though.

He arrived home, his usual bubbly disposition gone, due to exhaustion. He put his coat up on the coat hanger, and his bag down on the couch, walking over to Combeferre, who was in the kitchen, texting furiously on his phone, so much so that Courfeyrac was sure the screen would crack.

"Uh, Combeferre, I don't feel-" Courfeyrac began, Combeferre cutting him off,

"Can it wait, Courf? I'm picking up Enjolras from work, his car broke down this morning, and Grantaire's busy with a new project he's got," Combeferre asked, Courfeyrac sighing.

"Yeah… It can wait." He murmured, Combeferre patted his shoulder, giving him a nod, before heading out the door. Courfeyrac stood still for a few seconds, his head throbbing mercilessly, before he finally decided to just suck it up and go to the Musain. The walk there was short, but unpleasant, as the air was chilly, and Courfeyrac's nose ran even more as a result. He walked into the back room of the Musain, savoring the warm air that came from being inside a building.

"Hey, everyone," He rasped. Bahorel grinned.

"You're quite a sight," Joly examined concernedly, Courfeyrac shrugging,

"Guess I just finally caught the cold that's been going around," He replied, Bahorel giving a bitter laugh from the corner,

"Welcome to hell." He said, the other Amis laughing with him. Courfeyrac gave a weak one as well, a few hoarse coughs following it. The Amis present began chatting amongst themselves once more, Courfeyrac sitting beside Bahorel.

"I feel really bad." Courfeyrac admitted to him, Bahorel rolling his eyes,

"It's just a cold, Courf, almost everyone has it, man up!" He exclaimed. Despite it being good-natured teasing, Courfeyrac could feel tears welling in his eyes, and he walked away before Bahorel could see them, sitting in the other corner of the Musain.

" _Man up…"_

Great. Another phrase to add to the list of slightly insulting things said to him over the past two days.

…..…..…..

Courfeyrac decided to try to tell Combeferre of his illness later that night. The stomach ache seemed to have progressively gotten worse, and he had become extremely congested. He walked into Combeferre and Enjolras on the couch, like he had the morning before, but Combeferre was still awake. Enjolras, asleep, was sprawled across his lap, a red blanket spread across him, and his nose running profusely. Enjolras was one of those people who would still manage to look hot in that position. Dang the man.

"Combeferre-" Courfeyrac started, Combeferre cutting him off,

"Not right now, Courf. He's asleep, you'll wake him." Combeferre chided softly, running one hand through Enjolras' long curly hair, and coughing into the other.

"Alright." Courfeyrac muttered, walking dejectedly into his room, and slamming the door shut loudly, slightly on purpose, if he was being honest. He heard a few muffled noises from Enjolras, and the comforting voice of Combeferre.

Tears pricked in his eyes. Why was Combeferre still always focused on Enjolras? Courfeyrac had thought it would go away, after Enjolras and Grantaire had started dating, but if anything, Combeferre was even more overprotective of Enjolras…. God, what was he even thinking? Mentally cursing himself for thinking ill of his friends, he shivered, letting a few of the tears in his eyes drip down his face. He brushed them away, sniffling. He could be strong… Like Enjolras always did, try to push through the illness. His feverish mind did not take the time to remember that Enjolras always failed miserably at that, and, as a man who enthusiastically spoke about his death, which was yet to come, was probably not a great person to be taking advice from either.

" _Not right now, Courf."_

…..…..…..

Courfeyrac walked into the Musain the next day, not bothering to greet anyone, as he sat in the corner, laying his head down on the table. He didn't notice the presence that had come up behind him, until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you alright, Courfeyrac? You're not yourself," Jehan's soft voice drifted into his ear. Courfeyrac whipped around, blushing.

"I'm fine, Jehan." He responded, Jehan narrowing his eyes,

"I don't think you are." He replied, taking out his phone, "I can text Ferre-" He began, Courfeyrac cutting him off,

"Don't, he's probably busy." He said. Jehan frowned, stroking his hand across Courfeyrac's forehead. Courfeyrac froze entirely at Jehan's touch. Jehan bit his lip,

"You're very warm, warmer then you should be for a cold." He observed, coughing a few times into his fist, Courfeyrac sighing,

"I-" He began, before placing a hand over his mouth, and running off to the bathroom, throwing up in the nearest toilet he could find. Courfeyrac staggered to his feet with a groan, relieved that at least his stomach didn't hurt any longer. Jehan was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, phone already in his hand,

"I'm calling Combeferre." He said. Courfeyrac leaned against the bathroom wall, wrapping his arms around himself in a futile effort to stay warm, while Jehan called Combeferre.

"He's on the way." Jehan reported, walking over to Courfeyrac, and embracing him. Courfeyrac was shocked, but hugged Jehan tight back.

"What was that for?" He rasped as they separated. Jehan gave him one of his adorable slight smiles,

"You just looked like you needed one." He explained.

" _I don't want to deal with you tonight."_

" _Can it wait, Courf?"_

" _Man up…"_

" _Not right now, Courf."_

The words of earlier swirled around inside of Courfeyrac's head, Courfeyrac letting a few tears roll down his cheeks, which Jehan wiped away with a hand. A few minutes later, Combeferre entered the bathroom,

"Courf, how are you doing?!" He exclaimed. Courfeyrac sighed,

"How does it look he's doing?" Jehan responded for him. Combeferre pressed the back on his hand to Courfeyrac's forehead,

"I'm taking him home." Combeferre said, giving Jehan a grateful nod.

"Alright," Jehan murmured, kissing Courfeyrac's cheek, "Call me if you ever need me," He whispered into Courfeyrac's ear, before walking off.

Combeferre took Courfeyrac out to the car, Courfeyrac sitting in the passenger's seat, before Combeferre began to drive. Combeferre was definitely a slow driver, though he always defended it with, " _I'm slow because I actually obey traffic laws. And no, Enjolras, car safety laws do not oppress the people. "_

"Why didn't you tell me," Combeferre scolded, swerving around a rabbit. Courfeyrac crossed his arms,

"I did try to tell you, you were too busy," He defended. Combeferre frowned,

"I'm never to busy for you, Courf," He objected, Courfeyrac sighing,

"Yeah… Sometimes you are." He murmured, Combeferre dropping the subject. They arrived back home, finding Enjolras asleep at the table on top of his papers, the sound of his congested breathing able to be heard from the doorway. Combeferre left Courfeyrac's side with a fond smile, gently lifting Enjolras up off the table, and into his arms, the blonde miraculously staying asleep during the entire thing, and disappeared into Enjolras' room, returning about a minute later without him. Combeferre led Courfeyrac into his room, laying him down in bed.

"Combeferre?" Courfeyrac asked, Combeferre looking at him,

"Hm?" He inquired,

"Why do you always spend so much time with Enjolras?" Courfeyrac questioned. Combeferre thought for a few moments,

"Well… I think he just needs somebody there. He gets sick a lot, you know that, and he's got his anxiety, depression, and autism that he has to struggle through…" Combeferre's voice broke slightly, "We've almost lost him, a few times… Courf. I couldn't bear to lose him…" He whispered.

"Could you bear to lose me?" Courfeyrac asked, Combeferre's eyes widening,

"What kind of a question is that, Courfeyrac?! Of course not!" He exclaimed, Courfeyrac shrugging. Combeferre sighed,

"Sometimes it can seem like we're just caught up in each other, but when he's going through rough times, he really just needs someone there. We always love you Courf, no matter what." Combeferre swore, Courfeyrac holding up his hand, which had a pink rope bracelet.

"Swear by the bracelet?" He joked, Combeferre holding up his own blue one,

"Swear by the bracelet." He replied, pausing for a moment, "And Enjolras swears in spirit." He said, Courfeyrac smiling. Combeferre smirked,

"So… About Jehan…"

"Ack."

**Author's Note:**

> Not actually sure where this idea came from... Maybe from my brother observing that Ferre and Enjy seem to be closer with each other than with Courf, I don't know. This fic was fairly fun to write regardless.
> 
> Please do review, there's nothing writers love more!


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